


In Loving Memories

by midnightecho



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, canon spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-04
Updated: 2013-12-04
Packaged: 2018-01-03 12:14:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1070353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightecho/pseuds/midnightecho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After 9.09, Kevin Tran experiences Heaven.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Loving Memories

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Osric Chau](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Osric+Chau).



> So I had a lot of emotions about the season 9 mid-season finale. And I mean a lot. I usually have 'feels', but I don't usually break down into sobs.  
> I've spent the rest of the day trying to come to terms with Kevin's death, which was such a shock for me because, even though I had an idea when Gadreel was given the piece of paper, it happened so suddenly, and particularly since Kevin had so recently been expressly notes as 'one of the family'. It felt like he was finally going to be one of the main cast and appreciated as much as he deserves to be. But apparently not.  
> So this is what I did to process it. I tied up the gap I felt at the sudden absence of one of my favourite characters, trying to give him the resolution of story he deserves.  
> I hope I've done Kevin - and Osric - justice. And Osric, if you ever happen to read this, this is for you. Thank you so much for being a part of the Supernatural family, and I know you'll continue to be; you've more than earned it.

The darkness turns out to be brief. I’m not sure what I’m really expecting, but I open my eyes, slowly, glad for the end of the pain. It was a moment before I realise that I shouldn’t be able to open my eyes at all – the last sensation I’d experienced was them burning in my skull, an indescribable agony – but it’s gone. My eyes blink gently at the warm light that meets me and try to get my bearings. I’m not dizzy, not disorientated – I just don’t know what I’ll see when I look around.

To my vague surprise I realise I’m in the same place that I was when I died: the Bunker. I’m in another room, one that I don’t get to spend much time in since I’m – was – always stuck at that table either researching in translating. But for now I’m sat on a sofa, embraced by the soft cushions sat at an angle so I was facing… Dean. The sight of his face not being panicked and horrified as it had been moments before the black but instead relaxed and comfortable in his home – _our_ home – was more of a relief than I’d thought it would be.

“What’s it like in Heaven?” he says as though he’s confirming something I’d just asked. Then I remember. I did ask this – a while ago. Our conversation comes flooding back as Dean continues to shift from his reclined position to sit a little straighter. “Well, it’s a hell of a lot better than Hell,” he says with a short laugh and a half-smile, but he doesn’t meet my eyes.

“Have you been there?” I ask, my voice quiet but stronger than I was expecting it to be.

Dean meets my eyes. There’s a softness in the look he gives me, a fondness mixed with his internal reminiscence. “It’s awesome. Seriously. It’s not the big party in the clouds everyone expects, it’s way better than that.

“They show you your best memories. An endless stream of them, one after the other, and it just fills you with a joy that you can’t get from anything else. And now it’ll be even better than when I was up there; nobody will have angels on their ass 24/7. You’ll love it when you get there – which I hope to God won’t be for a long time, but then I guess you never know in this job… But yeah. You’ll love it.”

I feel warm. I hadn’t had much of a chance to wonder what would come next, but now Dean had told me, I was reassured. Part of me wanted to stay here and continue this memory, but it was only the message at the gates; as I smiled back, Dean’s face faded to black like a scene change in theatre and I soon found myself walking through the front door of my house – my old house, the one from a lifetime ago, and I feel salt water running down my cheeks without any warning. I’m not even sobbing. I’m just happy.

And walking from the kitchen towards me, beaming, is the woman I never thought I’d see again: my mum.

It’s probably only been about a year since I last saw her, but it feels like many and more. I’m sobbing now before she reaches me, and I hold her tight and for a very long time. The moment I’d heard she was gone flashed before me – of course I’d told myself over and over that demons lie, but it had still stung like a stake through my gut.

But seeing her now was like a dream come true.

It takes me a while to let go. And when I do I see the letter on the kitchen counter behind her. And I remember. This was the day I’d heard I’d got into the advanced placement programme.

I haven’t thought about my academic life for a long time. I gave up hope of ever returning to that side of life. It feels like a completely different me, and since I’d been so focused on saving the world it hadn’t seemed to matter, but now I remember the importance this day held for me.

Mum asks me how my day at school was, and I sniffle and reply, “Great. It was just great.”

She smiles at me once more just as she had that day, oblivious to the changes I’d gone through since this moment was a reality, and motions to the letter. I take a few shaky breaths and head over, gaze at it lying there open on the counter for a moment before taking it in my hands. It says it, right there in bold letters in the middle of the page:

 

_Congratulations Kevin Tran, you have been accepted into the Advanced Placement programme at Neighbor Grammar School, Michigan._

 

I try to ignore the nagging in the back of my mind telling me that I never got to finish AP, never got to go to college, never made anything of my life – but that I would have been able to do it. Somewhere I know I would have done well for myself. I was smart enough – even if I didn’t believe it at the time and was constantly panicking about every exam, I was smart. But even though I didn’t end up using my intelligence for becoming a lawyer or doctor or whatever, I had used it for good. Before my eyes materialises the moment I told Sam and Dean about how I’d tricked Crowley’s demons into giving me the ingredients for a banishing spell, and their faces spread into proud grins and I smile to myself. Yeah, I did do good.

I’m back in the kitchen and, out of nowhere, I feel arms around me – _Channing_. God, I’ve missed her. I hold her close and the scent of her shampoo comes with her – strawberries, and oh so familiar. She grins happily at me and a lump forms in my throat. The last time I saw her she’d been possessed (then released, before Crowley had…) by a demon and it had been horrific. But now she’s herself. And it’s wonderful.

I blink and I’m in another memory and, slightly surprisingly, back in the Bunker. Nothing could possibly compare to being back with mum, surely… but then here I am, Sam and Dean on either side of me. We’re all huddled up under a blanket watching The Lord of the Rings. A bowl of popcorn sits on my lap and the brothers are consuming it at an alarming pace – I remember at the time feeling like I had to eat super-fast to keep up with the rate they filled their lanky bodies.

“There’s cum-face number one for Mr Fro-Yo,” Dean says from one side of me. “Keep count of those, there’s a lot,” he adds to me. It was my first time of watching them, and naturally we had to watch the extended editions, and I recalled how confused (and maybe a little bored after the first 2 hours) I was that first time around, but now I greet those long scenes like old friends. I wonder why we hadn’t watched them for a while, but I’m glad I’m getting to watch them again now. Every time we’d watched them we’d have a good time.

“We should watch these sometime and play the drinking game I found online,” Dean says as Merry and Pippin almost screw everything up yet again. “We’d get hammered.”

Sam hasn’t been listening to Dean and instead mutters, “That’s not how it happens in the book…”

“Shh!” Dean hisses, suddenly intense. Sam gives him an odd look, but I know exactly what he’s waiting for. _“Buckleberry Ferry! Follow me!”_ I quote along with him, grinning.

I grab another handful of popcorn and settle down a little further into the sofa cushions.

Moments later I hear a door creak somewhere out in the hall. The brothers are so absorbed they don’t seem to notice, so I dump the popcorn on Sam’s lap and slide out from under the blanket and head towards the doorway. The Winchesters have already shuffled to fill my space by the time I look over my shoulder and I leave them to their watching with an affectionate smile on my lips.

The hall is empty and all the doors are as they were – but then I look up. There’s a man on the threshold with a grey beard and a tattered cap.

“What are you doing here? You shouldn’t be – you weren’t – you can’t –”

“Calm down, son,” he interrupts, holding his hands out to me, palms out.

His voice is low and fatherly, and I’m inclined not to reach for a stashed gun (which are dotted all around the Bunker) to pull on him until I find out exactly what he’s here for, or rather how he’s here. I’ve never seen him before; he shouldn’t be in my memory.

“You’re new to this, aren’t you?” he asks as he heads down the stairs towards me.

I nod.

“Well, I’ve had a bit of practice. Why don’t you stick with me for a while?”


End file.
